Fix Me (Or Give Up)
by LiveBreatheDie
Summary: 'And he thought, he'd never seen 'broken' quite so beautiful' or Annabeth isn't who she was, but maybe that's a good thing. Reviews are appreciated. Chapters might not make sense or connect *Under Editing*
1. Intro

He smelt like cigarettes, bad cologne and whisky.

Not that Annabeth had actually risked her sanity by putting herself close enough to the troubled boy to find out, but she imagined that's how he would smell. She imagined he was a great kisser as well, when he pulled a girl close and let his head fall to her neck. Annabeth was ashamed to admit she'd had such dreams often enough and as if to make matters worse, he wasn't even her kind of guy in the slightest. Annabeth, who'd grown up in a spacious, Victorian style home, worn pink skirts and cardigans, and was an active member at her neighbourhood bookclub was not supposed to be daydreaming about a very inked and a very _bad _boy.

He also rode a bike.

That fact within itself was enough to drive Annabeth wild. She just couldn't help hderself; what girl in her grade didn't have an enormous crush on the 16 year old. He wouldn't go after girls like Annabeth though, and at least she could admit it. Not that she was ugly, or vain but it just so happened that Annabeth had a very intimate relationship with facts; She was 14, she was blonde, she was five feet and seven inches tall and she had a nicely symmetrical face, which all young ladies of moderate intelligence knew was the basic foundation of attractiveness.

But _damn_ she wasn't nearly like any of those girls he had been with. He got with girls like Drew Tanaka, and Reyna Bellona. Confident, gorgeous, _sexy girls_ who barely even qualified as girls, teetering the line of _women_ and what teenage boy didn't want a woman in his bed? Drew had long, black hair that was pin straight at all times, tumbling down to her mid back, elegant and smooth with toned legs beneath short pencil skirts and blouses that _did not_ in _any way_ hide her fully developed breasts (not that Annabeth had been leering in any way but surely she couldn't have been the only girl envious?). Reyna, on the other hand, had her hair cut very short, boy style. But with her very slender figure and long, lanky body, it matched her equally dominant personality. _She _took control in bed, and if Annabeth heard one more story about how _fucking hot_ it was to have _the _Reyna Bellona tie up some sexually inexperienced boy in her debate club _one more god damn time_ she was going to scream!

But it was _women _like that, that he brought home.

It was women like that, that were in his league.

And _Annabeth_ was no such goddess.

But she could dream couldn't she? Of course only between classes, and after her designated homework time because, well, _she had priorities. _And goals. Which seemed to be yet another thing they _did not_ have in common. It was also what assured Annabeth that this was strictly a teenage crush, because not even _he_ would get in between the carefully threaded plans that were her future. But it was so tempting. How could a boy walk down the hallways with such nonchalance, with such a calm demeanor. The boy intrigued her. He owned the school but despite her best efforts Annabeth could not find even one hint that he actually _cared_. About _anything._ Not even the girls on his arms were worth even a mere smile. It had taken all of freshmen year for Annabeth to even gather so much as his name. When she finally did however, a fire coursed through her body as she tested it across her tongue;

_Percy Jackson._

It was something she had never felt; a rush of passion for someone she didn't even know and she imagined this is what it must have been like to do drugs, and suddenly she could understand the addicts and recovering fuck ups because who would want to quit something so intoxicating, and powerful. And she was aware it was probably incredibly unhealthy to obsess the way she had over a boy who didn't even know of her existence. But she didn't much care. This boy was a fire in a hallway of ashes, no doubt about it and he was burning brighter than she thought possible for someone who seemed so _burnt out._

At 14, he was the most beautiful being she'd ever seen.

* * *

At 15, her mother got remarried.

Within weeks, everything that she owned was tucked away into boxes, loaded into a truck and shipped 5,000 kilometers away. To their new home, her mother had exclaimed as she danced in anticipation, her wedding ring glinting across the ceiling. Annabeth was sure her eyes had faded to a dull grey, mirroring the utter fear of leaving behind all she'd ever known. At a young age, Annabeth had come to terms with herself and her flaws. A fear of the unexpected and commitment were just a few, but they gripped her life without mercy and pulled at it any which way they pleased. The thought of leaving her comfortable and predictable life was terrifying. All her relationships that had taken her her entire life to grow and develop, were thrown out the window without so much as a second glance.

Her new home was a beach house. Annabeth couldn't fathom why they'd moved here since her mother had always hated the ocean, but here her mother was embracing her new husband on their new deck as if it was all she'd ever wanted out of life. Annabeth couldn't imagine how her mother could be so blinded by the glamour of desire and deceit. Once witty and clever, Helen had married Annabeth's father, a successful aeronautic engineer and pursued her law degree. Helen had always been ambitious, and once she'd set her eyes on better she wouldn't stop until she achieved it.

How Chad Lancoster was better, Annabeth would never understand. He was a highschool principal, he spent most of his money on cigarettes and when the alcohol on his breath was a little too heavy he'd let himself get touchy, something that Annabeth absolutely dreaded. For the most part, Annabeth managed to keep herself off his mind and out of his house when things got out of hand.

Her methods worked for a little bit, and she watched her stepfather in his drunk abuse lash out on her mother but one day, he couldn't pull his eyes away from the swollen breasts that had developed over the past year. Under his own roof no less. He'd been furious, but that soon gave way to the pulsing desire that bulged in his pants for the younger, more desirable version of his wife. Every morning, when Helen left for work, Annabeth bit back tears as her bedroom door opened and large calloused hands pried at her skin.

Suddenly, whisky and cigarettes didn't smell so good.

By the time she was 17, there wasn't much left of Annabeth to be spared. Her skirts were replaced with leather pants, and her cardigans with death metal crop tops. Within two years, the pretty young thing that had walked the halls of Goode Highschool returned, broken beyond repair.

She didn't even remember his name

* * *

**Updated 2016-12-16**


	2. Chapter 1

Her fingers twitched for a cigarette, her body aching for the bitter smoke to caress her blood stream with its Nicotine. She had been aboard the plane for three hours, one more before they finally landed and the young girl just couldn't wait. She'd gotten out of rehab two months ago and had returned to live with her mother and slightly-less-abusing stepfather but things really weren't much better than they had been before. After six months of all those therapy sessions at the centre, Annabeth could go without human contact for the rest of her life.

She wasn't too fond of people anyways. And if she was being honest (Annabeth was _always_ honest) she thought she had every reason in the world to not like people, and she'd be damned if someone told her otherwise. She had been left too many times to count, abandoned with no reason and unwanted. It stung, especially after she had returned from her rehab; no one had paid her any attention in the slightest, focusing solely on the new twin babies, Bobby and Matthew.

She was just about to return back to school, which probably wasn't the smartest idea but her mother didn't really care, when Annabeth's father called. He had obtained a court order that Annabeth was to live with him and attend _Goode High School for Troublesome Teens in Recovery. _

More like cheap education for the national fuck ups, Annabeth thought bitterly as she flipped through the brochure in her first class plane seat. For the second time in her life, Annabeth had been uprooted again, only this time if she refused she would be enrolled in community service, and gods knew she had better things to do than clean up after other peoples messes. She could barely manage her own life, and take care of herself; how was she expected to care after old people who were so close to death that one mistake would kill them? Ya no, she'd much rather just avoid all of that very unwanted drama. And so there she was, alone in the pair of seats, glaring at the red '_no smoking' _sign above her head bitterly. Huffing, she put down the brochure and crossed her arms, leaning her head on the plane window. No matter how beautiful the world looked from so high up, she knew that the world was a very ugly place filled with very ugly people who really just weren't worth the energy that small acts of kindness required.

This was why Annabeth did not allow the elderly couple to exit the plane ahead of her, already placing a cigarette between her lips as she walked through the airport towards baggage claim. The world outside was dreary, and miserable which Annabeth silently claimed to be her favorite kind of day. Grey clouds hung low, some even hanging low enough to hide the tops of buildings, as rain drizzled down leisurely. The grey reminded her of her eyes, the same color she'd inherited inarguably from her mother but the thought was bitter causing her face to scrunch up in displeasure. Her mother hadn't even batted an eye at sending her daughter away; _It'll be a new start Annie, a chance to start over._

It had taken all Annabeth had in her not to deck her goody-wife mother and storm straight out the door. In fact, she had almost driven herself to the god damn airport and left immediately, however she had some things she wished to bring along; her golden chain necklace, makeup and favorite pair of black cross earrings. And perhaps Oliver, her overly large stuffed owl from when she was just a baby. So she stuck around only long enough to get packed up and took the taxi her mother had called, to the airport, only shedding a few tears once the door had closed and the driver had taken off.

Annabeth shook her head to shake her thoughts; that was in the past now and it was time to move on. Her bags were strewn around her on the wet sidewalk, and the rain was pulling at her hair and clothes, as Annabeth tried in futile to light her cigarette. After several minutes of silent curses and fits of frustration the damn thing finally lit. Almost instantly Annabeth sucked in greedily, breathing in the bitter, thick smoke and let it calm her panicking nerves. She hadn't talked to her dad or any of her previous friends since she was 15 and it had been two long, horrible years of pain and agony; of learning to live without living and laughing without happiness and she knew she wasn't the same. She wasn't sure she really liked herself, but then again Annabeth didn't really like anything except for dreary days, cigarettes and sex.

How twisted was that? Sex had destroyed her life, and by the amount of times she'd been raped one would think she'd be afraid of men and of sexual activities but that wasn't nearly the case. She needed to be abused, to be controlled and the sexual pleasure of being dominated was a twisted result of her fucked up life and she knew it, but she couldn't help the gasps of pleasure as the man would pull her hair and tie her up until he'd finished having his way with her. She'd had a few boyfriends over the years but they were always so old compared to her; the oldest had been 30 and the youngest had been 26. Her favorite part was when they would fuck then smoke a cigarette naked in bed, not talking or touching because really Annabeth didn't want _that._ She didn't want love. She didn't need it. Love had destroyed her life enough already, and so she would take her pleasure without any of the bitter strings that practically guaranteed a messy ending. She knew the men didn't mind, they didn't want any of that pointless stuff anyways, not when she was so willing in bed.

A cab pulled up beside her and rolled down its window as a young, blonde haired boy leaned across the middle console to speak.

"Annabeth? Annabeth Chase?" Annabeth nodded silently, still puffing on her cigarette. The boy immediately hopped out of his cab and began to pack up her luggage, but before she could protest he began speaking.

"Hello Mrs. Chase, I'm Luke Castellan." He threw her a large smile over his shoulder as he began fitting everything in the trunk. "Your father hired me to come pick you up. He said he had some business that needed to be taken care of by a due date tonight, but that there would be someone to help you settle in once you get there." Annabeth rolled her eyes; of course he was working. Frederick and her mother had split up because of his workaholic tendencies. Indirectly, he had been the cause of everything she had gone through. She quickly murmured a 'Thanks' and hopped in the passenger side of the cab. Only moments later Luke hopped into the driver's side and began to pull out onto the busy New York road.

"You don't remember me do you?" The vehicle had been drowning in awkward silence for a while before Luke finally couldn't take it anymore. But by Annabeth's continued silence, he took that as a 'no'.

"C'mon, I was two years older than you? Grade 10 and you used to sit in on some of my classes because you'd already pre-finished your grade curriculum?"

Silence.

"You know I didn't even recognize you. You always had your hair styled nice and straight, and you always wore dresses and cardigans. What happened? You look like you went through hell and stopped at a few thrift stores on your way through..." He coughed out an awkward laugh when he turned to meet Annabeth's icy stare.

"Ya well, people change Luke... and you're wrong; I do remember you." His face lit up in pure excitement, "You were the guy that always used to blow spitballs at Grover." Shame quickly enveloped his features and she knew, he remembered exactly what she was talking about.

Grover had been only a year older than her, but he had a muscle deteriorating disease. He always walked around on his crutches, because he wasn't able to walk on his own and he had an elevator pass. However, despite his disability, Grover was incredibly smart and he was enrolled in many Senior High classes, with assholes who just spent their time mocking him constantly. They would steal his elevator pass and hot box it, only returning it by throwing it at him from the top of the stairs. Luke had been one of those guys. About a month before Annabeth had moved away with her mother, Grover had stopped showing up to school.

He'd committed suicide off the Brooklyn Bridge, but the NYPD hadn't found him for days. By the time they did, no one had even realized that he was gone. Annabeth had made a small shoebox memorial for him, and set it on his grave the day she left but she had never heard anymore about him. This was yet another piece of evidence that supported her theory; nice people die, and mean people kill. It's a survival instinct.

Her and Luke didn't speak again for the rest of the drive to her fathers apartment, where she immediately exited the vehicle to the front door. The bell boy offered to bring her bags up and she thanked him as she handed him a twenty dollar bill before turning towards the elevator.

_Floor 10_

_Apartment 28b_

She was having doubts about all of this. What would her father say? What would she say? Would she be expected to sit down to meals and talk about their day? _Oh god_ would there be family bonding nights? She really, truly hoped not and she prayed to every god and goddess she could think of that things wouldn't be _that_ awkward. She really didn't want to feel like a stranger with her own father, with whom she had once been very close with. She quickly looked around the elevator but didn't see a sign indicating it was a non smoking environment, so she quickly lit up another cigarette.

_Five more floors to go._

What if he has a surprise waiting for her? Or if he had invited all of her old friends to come welcome her home? She highly doubted they'd be even slightly approving of how she was now, with her black ripped skinny jeans, short skull crop top and leather jacket. Her hair was cut short, just above her shoulder and a mess of frizzy, blonde curls (albeit thanks to the rain). That morning, she had applied thick eyeliner and pale lipstick which contrasted heavily with her tanned, California tan. In fact, the only thing Annabeth could think that resembled at all who she used to be would have been her worn, black converse. Bangles adorned her wrists and it dawned on her suddenly just how little she was like the girl she had been growing up.

_Two more floors._

She turned suddenly towards the reflection of the elevator wall and doubled over at what she saw. It had been forever since she'd looked, really looked in the mirror at her reflection and she didn't recognize herself in the slightest. _Who's that?_ She thought as she drug her fingers against her skin and through her hair. Since when had she looked so _broken_?

The elevator dinged as its doors pulled open to reveal a long corridor of doors with numbered letters. Annabeth pulled herself hesitantly from the reflection as her heavy feet pulled her towards the proper door. This was it. Behind this door lived her father; a new life and a fresh start. Her hand rapped at the door, and within seconds it was pulled open.

But it didn't matter, Annabeth decided. It was an ugly world with ugly people, and no amount of anti-depressants or therapy sessions were going to change the undeniable truth.

Life really wasn't worth living.

* * *

**Okay so who else is feeling the kind of story this is going to be? To be honest it gets better trust me. **

**Also this is the longest chapter I've ever written but is it a good length or do you guys want longer? Let me know and review(: This is the only time I'll post twice in a week though.**


	3. Chapter 2

Annabeth wasn't cynical nor was she a pessimist. In fact, it was _majorly _annoying when people would casually drop those words in conversations.

'Oh Annabelle stop being so cynical'

'Since when have you become such a pessimist?'

Both happened to be some of the first things she'd heard from the five girls gathered in her father's living room the minute she walked through the door. The six of them hadn't gone through more than ten minutes of talking before silence enveloped them and her old friends all seemed to be thinking the same thing; _who the fuck is this?_

But in all honesty, it was a fair question. Who was she? That question was often reserved to tequila and dope induced nights, where tears usually followed suit of a blackout. And yet, she still hadn't found an answer. She found herself mute with an answer to the silent question that filled the room and Annabeth felt so out of place. Clearly, it was apparent that these girls had stayed friends over the years and they'd all grown up relatively the same as they had been growing up. Piper Mclean, for starters, wore a gorgeous tan dress with a pair of black heels and a jean jacket. Her (used to be short) choppy brown hair had grown out to her mid back, but even with the heels she topped, just barely, at 5'5".

Hazel wore simple, thrift shop jeans with a dark purple turtle neck, her hair cut just below her ears, and her face had grown out of its prepubescent roundness and it seemed as if she hadn't grown an inch since 9th grade. Rachel's hair was smooth and dark purple (probably an act of rebellion on her part, Annabeth thought) but just as curly and unmanageable as Annabeth remembered it to be when they were younger, and it was absolutely no surprise to see her in her paint splattered jean jumper although she seemed at par with Annabeth's height.

Whereas Katie and Juniper topped off only an inch bellow Annabeth and were both dressed in a uniform of some sort (it looked like a gardeners outfit and it didn't seem too farfetched of a presumption knowing Katie and Juniper). In general, everything seemed almost _normal_ as if _nothing had changed._

Nothing, except for Annabeth. And everyone knew it, but what else did they expect? She wasn't like she used to be, and clearly they should have known that if they had been told she was attending Goode. Her friends were anything but daft, but at this moment Annabeth began to wonder if they'd been informed about anything other than that she was coming home. She doubted it. Her father probably called them last minute saying he was too busy to see me but he wanted to give me a warm welcome so they were free to do whatever they pleased. That would probably explain the cake and presents.

"Sooooo, uh Annabeth, what was San Francisco like?" Annabeth gave Katie points for _trying._

"Horrible."

"Make any friends?"

"Ya?"

"Get into any trouble?" Was that wink supposed to make that question a joke?

"Clearly?"

Silence.

Good. Silence was Annabeth's favorite. No talking, no contact, no emotions and no need of emotional effort output. Finally after several more moments of bitter awkwardness, Piper stood up;

"I'm going to go get the plates and cut up the cake." She quickly stood up and walked to the kitchen, separated from the living room by only a small island. Without hesitation, she knew exactly here everything was, and quickly returned with everything. Juniper suddenly began to squirm excitedly, drawing Annabeth's blank gaze towards her. The iciness of the gaze toned down her squirming slightly but she still smiled wide, "Now you get to open our presents!"

Terrific. Yay. Can't wait. Annabeth believed those were some of the things she was supposed to say, she also believed she should have been excited or even squeal, but all she did was shrug and take the present Rachel handed her because apparently she had already called dibs on being the first in this whole 'welcome home' party. Annabeth barely even considered New York home anymore, just a place from her past.

It was a book, _The Life of Pi,_ and a pair of slick black pumps. She guessed, _maybe_ she'd find the occasion where she'd wear the heels. _Maybe._

Piper said she'd bought the cake, so that in itself was her present. It was a sweet thought, if Annabeth ate. Well, she did eat just never anything like cake, or anything with sugar. Or calories. So generally she rarely ate.

Juniper gave her a planted bush. Or at least that's what it looked like although she insisted it was a high end Hibiscus plant, but Annabeth still thought it looked like a bush. She gave a tight smile and placed it beside herself. Katie gave her a solitary white rose, and she said she'd grown a whole batch herself but picked the best one just for her. How the hell was Annabeth supposed to keep alive two plants when she could barely do the same for herself? The situation just seemed far too ironic.

Hazels present was by far the best, and the most simple. It was a solitary portrait of a Raven, which Annabeth actually found lovely. A physical reincarnation of death portrayed on paper seemed interesting; she would have loved to contemplate it more stoned. Sadly, that wasn't an option.

All the girls ate the cake in silence, except for Annabeth who mostly busied herself with _pretending _to eat her cake. Within minutes, the girls slowly began excusing themselves with poorly thought out excuses that would have made Annabeth laugh if she hadn't been so relieved. Maybe that was slightly unfair of her, but it was just so _damn_ awkward in a house, your new house, that happened to be full of strangers who weren't always strangers. It just really wasn't a scenario Annabeth would like to repeat. Ever.

It wasn't long after they'd left, that she'd decided to retire to her room for the night. She put away the cake and lugged all of her _'presents'_ up to her room that the five girls had helped her set up (She had definitely noticed the look they gave each other when they saw her poster of Bob Marley). Annabeth hadn't ever remembered being stuck up, but it seemed like that's exactly what she had been: A high end socialite snob. The thought made her nauseous as she got dressed in her pajamas and climbed into her makeshift only-a-mattress-on-the-floor bed. It didn't take long for her thoughts to dull as she fell into a peaceful sleep.

The prescription drugs she'd stolen from her mother's cabinet may have helped.

* * *

She went through all of Sunday bored and alone. Not that she had expected her father to actually leave his study but she had _hoped._ By the time Monday rolled around, she found herself almost _excited_ to actually get some social interaction. Almost, but not quite because people still sucked. And it really didn't help that she had a morning from fucking hell. First she couldn't, for the life of her, remember where she was when she woke up, so it took her extra long to get her bearings to find the bathroom to have a simple fucking shower. By the time she finally got that done, she had already wasted 50 minutes and only had three more until the bus showed up at the bus stop that was a block and a half down the street and she still wasn't even dressed. Inevitably, she missed the bus and ended up having to use her lunch money to take the transit which only stopped 2 blocks away from her school, and she never did remember New York being that busy at 8:45 in the morning.

By the time she'd actually entered the school, it was clear tardiness was _not_ tolerated by the deserted halls. She found herself uncomfortably out of place as she walked into, what she assumed, was the secretary's office. She was right. Hesitantly she walked up to a middle aged lady, bitter with stubbornness and quite wrinkly if Annabeth did say so herself however her desperate attempts at grasping onto her youth were much too apparent by her (very obviously bleached) blonde hair and a container of anti-aging cream beside a photograph of what she presumed to be the ladies grandchildren.

She cleared her throat, causing the older woman to look up. "Um, hi, I'm Annabeth Chase?" Since when had who she was been something to be questioned? Possibly since she had been fixed with the icy, unimpressed look she faced from Mrs. Larson (Annabeth read her name tag).

(She had also decided she _really _didn't like this lady).

Mrs. Larson 'mmhmm'ed as she began furiously typing away at her computer before the printer to her left started printing. With a, in Annabeth opinion, overly aggressive palm to the stapler, the woman handed Annabeth her schedule, locker number and map of the school with a red X marking where she currently was. It was clear by the look Mrs. Larson gave her, that Annabeth had been excused. She quickly turned on her heel to exit the room, but as she opened the door, she ran smack right into a wall.

Wait, what?

No, she realized, it wasn't a wall.

It was a he. A very sturdy he, and if his face looked anything like his body felt then this would be a very _hot_ he. Annabeth, if she was being honest, wasn't hesitant to take her time trailing her eyes up the mysterious boy's body. He wasn't very tall, but his strong build was very apparent by the snug fit of his T-Shirt. A body like that, had always been one of Annabeth's weakness' and she could feel herself bite her lip as she imagined trailing her hands over the must-have-been abs beneath his shirt whilst he pinned her to a wall by her hips. Okay, yes they were far from the best she'd seen and in all honesty she probably would have rated them only 'decent' on a scale of hot-to-not but abs were abs and she'd be damned if she didn't find all abs in general hot as fuck.

It wasn't until she reached his face that she found herself frown in disappointment. Wide, square shaped face with baby blue eyes and preppy blonde hair. So not her type. She sighed partially disappointed, but admitted that it had been nice while it had lasted. And it wasn't that he was _unattractive_ persay, he was just not at all what she found herself attracted to.

Okay so ya, maybe that made him unattractive.

But she was sure other people would disagree. Or at least she hoped so, for the sake of the guy, otherwise the arrogant, confident aura he was putting off was very much falsely fed to him and he actually had no idea what he actually looked like in the eyes of others.

Wow. Did that make her a bitch? She internally laughed. Of course she's a bitch; it's been that way since life fucked her over and there was no use dwelling over it when she had class to get to.

Strange-unattractive boy, however, continued to stand in her way and every time she tried to step around him he'd accidently step the same way. He instantly began laughing, but even his laugh Annabeth found annoying as she continued to squish past his large frame that took up the entire doorway. She finally got through and looked quickly at her map, pin pointing the class room where her Math class would be. She finally gained her bearings and began heading in the general direction when suddenly Mr. Blonde Superman (because that's exactly what he looked like) caught up to her and began matching stride. Things were silent at first, and she hoped it would have been enough to get her message across. Clearly, that was not the case;

"Hey, you're new right? I'm Jason Grace, and I have been designated to official Goode tour giver to our hot, young new blondes. Shall we?"

Ugh.

* * *

**HAHAHAHAHAHA you guys thought it was Percy didn't you? Lool psyche. Didn't I say a week until the next update? Oops. I think I just really want to get this story rolling plus I skipped school today and its spring break now so I'll be updating a lot. Anyone against that?**


	4. Chapter 3

"So what's your name?" Jason seemed genuinely curious, as he directed the pair through the complex corridors.

"Annabeth." She said, almost hesitantly.

"What? No last name? I pride myself in knowing all student fuck ups that attend this school." Was it possible to be proud of that? She wondered.

"Annabeth Chase." She corrected, rolling her eyes at Jason. "Why do you wanna know?"

"Well a pretty new girl like yourself needs a friend, and I figured what better friend than yours truly?"

"A less annoying one?" Jason threw her an amused smile and shook his head.

"Trust me Annabeth Chase; I am the least annoying human being you will find in this place."

Annabeth laughed bitterly, "Then I guess by the end of the year I won't need to attend a reform school; they'll send me straight to a psychiatric facility." They both laughed at that before entering a comfortable silence, and she found herself rather enjoying Jason's endearing personality. They'd almost reached her class before Jason turned to her, "So what did you do to get in here?"

Annabeth stopped walking, and watched Jason suspiciously. "Why do you ask?" Jason shrugged.

"You just talk really smart, like _really_ smart compared to most of the people you'll meet here. So you kind of stick out right? Like, if you're smart how did you get into dumb enough situations to wind up here?"

The stab of sadness that struck her heart was surprising and painful, a welcome change from her normal indifference. "I guess…" She trailed of and continued walking. It wasn't until she was outside the door, that she turned to Jason and fixed him with a cold stare.

"I guess you shouldn't always judge a book by its cover. Thanks for showing me around, Jason. See you around." She mentally face palmed; she just did it again, put up those walls to block him out. She wanted to open up to him, honestly she did but he was right; she wasn't stupid. She wasn't going to put herself in a situation where she could get hurt. She gave him one last cold look before she turned to enter the classroom. Inside, Annabeth found herself facing dozens of curious stares which she found were quite unnerving. She took a deep breath and counted to three, setting her shoulders back and heading toward what she assumed was the teacher's desk.

_Mrs. Jaue_

"Annabeth Chase." Annabeth said, almost rudely as she threw down her new student ID card. While Mrs. Jaue picked up the card and began pulling up Annabeth's records, Annabeth took the time to analyze the teacher, which had become a bad habit she'd adopted every time she met someone new. The teacher looked nice enough; young, with pretty strawberry blonde hair and a thin face. She was definitely a recent graduate, and couldn't have been older than 26. Mrs. Jaue returned Annabeth's card with a worksheet recapping on Pythagoreans Theory math equations. Shouldn't they be working on actual 12th grade math problems, Annabeth wondered as she took a seat beside a small frail girl with long caramel colored hair. The girl was still struggling on the first question, and if Annabeth was in a good mood she probably would've helped the poor girl out.

But Annabeth wasn't feeling quite that generous, so instead she just set to work on her own worksheet. It was double sided, but she'd finished it in twenty five minutes (to which Annabeth was still disappointed but she was out of practice). Math had always made sense to Annabeth, because it was the only thing in the whole world that just _was._ Nothing else was as steady and permanent as Math; History facts always seemed to change, based off who was telling the story. And the rules of Language Arts always changed and shifted because language kept developing. But math, after being discovered never changed. She admired that in a way, appreciating that at least one thing in the world wouldn't change, and it could just _be._ By the time class had ended, almost 40 minutes later, Annabeth was bored out her mind, so grateful that the bell finally rung as she handed in her worksheet and ducked out of class. She glanced at her schedule.

_Where the hell was room 287?_

* * *

By the time lunch had rolled around, Annabeth was so ready for a smoke; her nerves were going insane and her nicotine levels were so dangerously low she knew, without a doubt, that if she didn't have a cigarette soon she was going to vomit. She had already spent her lunch money on her last-resort city bus ride to school that morning so she didn't bother entering the cafeteria, and instead found herself roaming the hallways for somewhere she'd be able to seclude herself for her much needed break. Within minutes, Annabeth found herself cramming into an old Janitors closet.

Only, the closet wasn't crammed. Annabeth reached up to pull on a string, which switched on a light, illuminating the room and revealing another door. The letters that indicated where the door lead had long since been removed, but curiosity gripped Annabeth, guiding her through the door and up two flights of stairs. Finally, just when Annabeth had thought it was pointless and these stairs really never ended, she came to a door. Without hesitation, Annabeth turned the handle and pulled hard, to open the wedged door only to find herself on the rooftop of Goode. Clouds hung low again today, the sky gently drizzling as the world seemed to be painted in shades of grey. A small smile pulled at Annabeth's lips while she began to busy herself looking through the bag that hung at her hips for her pack of cigarettes. _Where the hell were they? _She became frustrated as she hastily tore through her bag almost desperately before she suddenly remembered that she'd smoked her last one at the transit bus stop that morning.

"_Fucking great. Perfect." _She kicked her foot against the cement waist high wall that covered the perimeter of the rooftop as she ran a hand through her hair, a useless effort at taming the panic in her chest. She _needed_ that smoke. A voice cleared itself behind her, and Annabeth whipped around eyes wide in surprise. She relaxed a little more when her eyes landed on a tall figure, a cigarette between his lips and another one held out towards her. Desperately, Annabeth takes the cigarette and lights it almost immediately, sighing in relief. The boy chuckled as he, himself, light up his own smoke. They stood there in silence for a while, both enjoying their nicotine induced high as Annabeth found herself studying him.

There was something familiar about him, his unruly black hair, and broken green eyes. He seemed to top off at 6'1" but the way he was slouched, as if his back had given out under the weight of the world, he could've easily been several inches taller. His face was angular, with defined cheek bones and deep black circles the made his eyes pop. His pale skin made it obvious he didn't get much sun, but Annabeth didn't doubt that considering the weather she'd witnessed the past three days. He wore a dark blue sweater, the hood pulled over his head, and his black jeans hung snug against his hips, falling loose down his legs, and with the rain, his white t-shirt clung to his skin. His abdominals were firm, and Annabeth could count the abs beneath. Six well defined, and two more slightly formed and not to mention his lips ring that he kept subconsciously pulling at, Annabeth nearly shuddered.

She found herself slightly embarrassed to be eyeing up the stranger so blatantly, but he was _gorgeous._

But to be fair, Percy was watching her right back.

He remembered her, easily. Back then she had long blonde hair and she always wore small dresses and sat in on his classes (or the only ones he showed up to). Most of the time he only showed up just to see her. Not that he liked her, because she was so _young_ back then but she was cute and he found it was slightly funny when she would blush every time she passed him. But now, three years later, she didn't even recognize him. He knew it was her the minute he saw her that morning, walking with Jason Grace in the abandoned hallways, and he had to admit; whatever had happened to her, she had become the most striking human being he had ever seen. Her short, curly hair looked soft and appealing but messy and revealed her long slender neck. He felt the animalistic desire to leave his marks all across her pale skin, from her neck to some slightly less appropriate places and he had to swallow the large lump in his throat to get control of himself.

He had decided to go have a smoke on his rooftop, (not that it was his but he seemed to be the only one who even knew it existed) just to _cool off_ but to his surprise he'd found Annabeth there aswell. She wore a short, black skirt and a pair of black heels that made her long pale legs just that much _longer _and _paler._ Her leather jacket hung loose on her small frame and he was sure it wasn't keeping her nearly warm enough.

_He could warm her up._ But no, he shook his head, disposing of the thought. Now wasn't the time nor place. He watched her silently, placing his cigarette between his lips as he watched her hastily tear through her bag.

"_Fucking great. Perfect." _He smirked as he pulled out a second cigarette, thinking that maybe he could count this as his small kind deed of the day. She kicked her foot against the wall in frustration, and he couldn't help but think that she just seemed adorable pissed off.

He cleared his throat, holding out the solitary smoke towards his rooftop companion. Annabeth turned around, the surprise evident on her face before she relaxed and grabbed the smoke out of his hand. Percy had to try not to laugh as she breathed a sigh of relief, letting the smoke exit her lungs. He followed suit of lighting his cigarette, as he couldn't help but admire the young girls face; her once young and slightly-chubby face had long since lost its roundness apparent by her hollow cheeks and red, plump lips. He honestly couldn't help when his mind strayed to how that tongue piercing _might feel._

By the time he finally spoke, Annabeth had almost finished her cigarette.

"Bad day?"

"Fucking nightmare." The boy laughed as he dropped his cigarette, crushing it beneath his foot. "But better now." The boy raised his eyebrow in questioning, breathing out the remaining smoke.

"Oh ya? How so?"

Annabeth shrugged, "I like the weather and it's pretty up here." A couple of seconds passed, "And I really needed that smoke."

"It looked like it," he said, "By how desperately you were searching through your bag."

He smiled at her, almost gently but it seemed more than that. This boy knew her, in some way but she couldn't, for the life of her, remember. She brushed it off as maybe she was just misreading him as she pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the wall, facing the tall boy. A look passed by his eyes, almost glazing for a minute as he moved closer to her, placing both his hands on either side of her against the wall.

"So what brings you back to New York city?" He asks, the previous kindness gone, replaced by cruel mischief. She couldn't lie, that look in his eyes was really _hot_. Annabeth shrugged, (she tended to do that a lot), as she looked over across her shoulder at the busling streets.

"Would you believe me if I said I missed it?"

"Not a fucking chance." He laughed, as his teeth pulled against his lip ring. As a natural reaction, Annabeth found herself biting her own lip, which caused the boy to smirk. Annabeth flushed with embarrassment, but for some reason his smirk only grew. "Tell me the real reason."

Annabeth waited for her walls to be thrown up, but for some reason, they didn't. Instead she found herself hoping off the ledge so that she was pinned between the tall man and the wall, her back arching while she pressed her body against his; she wasn't sure what game they were playing but she was sure as hell she would _win_. It was her turn to smirk as she felt him pull in a shaky breathe, and she laughed lightly, walking her slender fingers up his arm until her hand cupped the back of his neck. She pulled his face closer to her own, so close his lip ring touched her lips as well. She spoke, so gently she was sure he wouldn't have heard if she hadn't been so close.

"Now if it was any of your business, you'd be the first to know." She quickly ducked under his arm and threw a wink over her shoulder, "Thanks for the smoke."

And with that she left him on the roof, catching the name embroidered on the bottom back of his sweater; _Jackson_.

Holy_ Shit._

* * *

And, _damn,_ he thought, _the things he'd like to do to a girl like Annabeth Chase. _He shook his head and laughed, girls with mouths like that were by far the most fun to play with.

* * *

**Hello. I know this is the shittiest one I've done so far (I'm out of practice) but idk I really thought that would be a cute/intriguing way for them to meet. Also, I have a proposition for anyone who'd like to be my new PJO internet friend? None of my real friends ever read PJO but I really wanna make a friend to talk all that stuff with, and tag in instagram posts and stuff like that and just in general ya. Tbh just PM me because I need some demigod friends honestly.**


	5. Chapter 4

Two weeks had passed, and he had yet to talk to her again. She had become something thrown to the back of his mind, a forgotten passion or a burnt out desire.

Because Percy hadn't felt anything for her, and he didn't believe in _love at first sight_. It was bullshit, if he was being blunt. Sure she was fucking _hot_ and he'd probably spent much too long thinking of ways to take her but why would he waste time obsessing over a girl he couldn't give a shit about?

It wasn't until Sunday night that he saw her again. He sat at the bar in _Charlie's_, a popular club on the west side of Manhattan, owned by a personal friend of Percy's (which would explain how he got in despite his illegal age). He had been on his fifth beer, the buzz turning into a blur as he took his second shot, letting the numbness envelope his body when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a streak of gold. He quickly turned his head, tilting the world off its axes, but when he finally refocused his drunken eyes, he felt a growl burn in the back of his throat.

There she was; her blonde hair straightened, catching in her blood red lipstick as she sang along to the lyrics to the current song that was playing. Her body was thrashing wildly off tune, but in the sexiest way as she swayed her hips to the upbeat song, grinding with different guys. Thick, black eyeliner coated her closed eyes as she lost herself in the sea of people, her long, pale legs poking out of her _very short _and_ very sexy_ black dress however she was shoeless. Percy assumed she must have hastily discarded them in a drunken haste to just dance and it hadn't taken long before Percy found himself being pulled across the dance floor, right in front of Annabeth.

She felt _him_. But maybe that was the alcohol, and so Annabeth ignored the feeling and kept dancing. She was curious as to whom she was dancing with now, but she couldn't find it in her to open her eyes because if she did, she would leave the place the music had taken her so instead she continued to dance. She felt different hands leave and return to her body, but she continued to keep up with the rhythm of the song, and despite her drunken stupor, Annabeth felt _happy_. Until she felt that same presence standing right in front of her. Slowly, she opened her heavy eyes only to lock with gorgeous green orbs filled with lust and dominance. She whimpered after only mere seconds of their heavy gaze, letting the man pull her to him.

_"__Dance."_ His voice was raspy, and animalistic. He hadn't asked her, he'd demanded it. Without hesitation, Annabeth did as she had been told and began to move against his body. He was warm and firm, and _familiar_ although she couldn't place where she knew him. It seemed like _years_ that they danced, moving together in the crowded room as if they were trying to mold into one single person altogether. His hand had grasped her own, pulling her out of the busy dance floor before he had her pinned, unmoving, to a wall. She had no idea what wall, and she had easily become turned around in the club, everything blurring together, but she really didn't care where she was. His head had ducked down to her neck, nipping and sucking; leaving a decent sized mark and once he'd growled his approval he moved on to make another. And another. And another. Annabeth's hands wove themselves in his hair, moans escaping her parted lips, as his hands moved across her body.

"I'm taking you home." She was surprised he'd taken the time to say that before he returned to her pale neck, continuing his frenzy. She nodded her head, overenthusiastically as she followed him out of the club and into a cab.

They barely paused for breath in the cab, and again as Percy opened the door to his apartment, before he'd turned her around and taken her there, against his entryway door. And again on the kitchen island. They'd somehow managed to make it up the stairs, after many more times along various places throughout the place before finally spending the rest of their drunken night in his bed.

* * *

She awoke the next morning confused.

And hung-over.

But mostly confused. Partially because this wasn't her room, and partially because there was a naked body behind her to which she was pinned. This wasn't an unfamiliar situation, in fact Annabeth had lost count of the amount of times she'd found herself in bed with a stranger the morning after a night of blanks. She laid there in silence, carefully weighing her options. Annabeth took a look around the room, her clothes nowhere to be seen. Cursing, she squeezed her eyes tight, begging any memories from last night to resurface.

_Green eyes._

Annabeth groaned in embarrassment as she buried herself back under the duvet. Her noise must have awoken the man behind her because his hands slowly ran themselves up and down her body, and it was the first time Annabeth had noticed that she was _sore_. A chuckle emanated from behind her.

"Well, you're pretty eager in bed aren't you?" The man wrapped his arm around her to flip her over, pressing her naked body against his own, her leg draping itself across him. His other hand went to her neck as he smirked, proud at his fine work he'd done to the frail girl beneath him.

Percy couldn't lie, last night he'd done a fine job of roughing the girl up; although if her moans were anything to go by, he'd assumed those were the kinds of things she was into. And she was a thousand times hotter panting his name trapped beneath him. Not that she would have even tried to leave. No, he was pleasuring her much too well.

But he was over her. He knew without a doubt, she was just like every other girl he'd been with; easy. No doubt she would have expected some kind of commitment and _gods knew_ that was his least favorite part of the conversation; _no, I'm sorry you were fun in bed but not that great, _or _I'm not a commitment kinda guy. Thanks for the fun time. _And whatever kind of crush, or slightly less than an obsession-obsession, he had previously had on the girl was, without a doubt, extinguished.

It was while he was thinking of blunt, but not too harsh, ways of letting the poor girl down that he found her prying herself off of him and picking up discarded towel hanging over his door, as she wrapped it around her thin figure. Confused, Percy sat up.

"What are you doing?"

She turned towards him, as she tucked the tail end of the towel beneath her arm, and ruffled her hair. "I'm taking a shower then don't worry I'll be out of your hair." Her face emotionless and blank, she turned on her heel and walked across the hallway to what was evidently the bathroom. Percy sat there blank. _What the fuck just happened?_ Where were the tears? Or the annoying pleads to just give her another chance because she could do so much better?

Why was she taking a fucking shower? Baffled, Percy gathered his clothes off the floor and tossed them in the hamper before swiftly dressing in a pair of black jeans, a dark green shirt, and draped his leather jacket over his shoulder. It had only taken Annabeth fifteen minutes to finish her shower before she entered his kitchen in nothing short of her (his) towel. She began walking towards the front door, but before Percy could make some remark on how stupid she was to have forgotten to dress herself, she dropped her towel, leaving her body naked, in all it's glory, in Percy's living room. And _holy shit_ she looked even better than he remembered from the previous night. Granted he was drunk as fuck. Was she going to come onto him? He pondered, not really opposed to the idea.

When she bent over, as if to pick something off the floor Percy nearly died; ready to relive the previous night again. And again. And again.

He'd give her the speech later.

It had taken him a second to realize that she had indeed bent over to grab her dress and thin, lacy underwear. After sliding her panties on, she raised her arms (giving Percy a very stretched out and pleasurable view of, well, _everything_) and pulled on her dress. Percy couldn't believe he hadn't noticed she'd been braless the entire time, albeit he was probably very much preoccupied with what happened to be _between her legs._

Gods bless whoever had given such a smoking girl such a nice….

Percy cleared his throat, getting Annabeth's attention while she searched around his apartment for her shoes.

"You left them at the bar." Percy stood up, stretching his arms behind his back and yawning. Shirtless, Annabeth noted, not hiding the fact she was admiring his toned physic. She rolled her eyes, seemingly unaffected, "Of course I did. Do you have a smoke?"

Percy nodded to a pack on the island, which sat beside a lighter. He watched almost intrigued as she sat herself on the counter, puffing at the cigarette. He wasn't even slightly ashamed he took his time looking up her dressed, although her crossed legs slightly blocked his view; Annabeth didn't even seem affected. "You seem pretty comfy in some stranger's house." He observed, moving himself so that he stood close in front of the pretty blonde. She rolled her eyes, his cockiness slowly losing its appeal, as she blew a cloud of smoke into his smug face, cause him to start coughing. She laughed lightly, without humour.

"It wouldn't be the first time." She took another puff, reveling in the relief it brought to her body.

He took a moment analyzing the ice queen, as Annabeth just sat there nonchalantly puffing on her (his) cigarette and staring out of the floor to ceiling window that occupied his living room. Not that the view was nice, but the sunrise was pretty. It seemed to be hours before she finally finished the blasted cigarette and put it out in the small cigarette butt bowl, as she grabbed another smoke for the road and hoped off the counter. Her round, perky breasts brushed against Percy's bare chest whilst she squeezed past his broad figure to the front door, not even turning back to give the boy a second look.

He waited, his smirk ever present on his face. She would ask, he knew she would and so he lit up his own cigarette and simply waited. It wasn't until the door almost closed, without so much as a goodbye that he spoke up.

"What? Not going to ask for my number?" Annabeth turned to face his arrogant expression and almost sighed in exasperation; this façade was getting so _old._ She laughed at him, as if the idea within itself was a joke.

His smirk faded drastically as she turned towards him, her one hand on the door and the other ever present on her hip. With her one eyebrow cocked, she pursed her lips amused and gave him a once over, causing Percy to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.

Annabeth shook her head and laughed. "No," She said, "I don't think so." She blew him a kiss, and turned her back to the stunned boy, leaving his apartment building without so much as a second thought. It had taken him a while to comprehend what had truly happened, and a couple seconds of choking on the cigarette smoke he'd forgotten he'd inhaled, he growled.

And he most definitely did _not_ in _any way_ find her to be the _sexiest_ fucking thing_ ever._

* * *

**Okay so to be honest, I kind of had a realization that 'holy ****_fuck_**** this story isn't going where I want' so I tried to fix it in this chapter and I sincerely hope no one gets upset with this. Leave me your thoughts on this, because to be honest I'm feeling like its shitty cause no one's reviewing (Only like the same three people) so give me your thoughts.**

**So hi! Let's play meet the Author (:**

**My name's Brooklyn. **

**Stay tuned for next times edition of 'Meet the Author' where we learn a little more about me**

**(Cause I'm awesome duh)**

**Ps. Is this going to fast? It needed to happen right away before the real stuff could happen.**


	6. I'm sorry

I'm on wattpad now. It is 100000000x easier than constantly having to log onto this site with my phone. I've more or less grown out of fan fiction per say but you never know what you'll find on my account. Go take a peak.

Username: BrooklynByers

I only have one story on it so far but if I have any supporters who are willing to transfer it over, let me know(:

Love you all but I think I might be saying good bye to this site for good.

But again, no promises. In fact, I think I owe to both accounts to write an eulogy. Until next time lovers :*


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